


déjà vu

by ladyxdaydream



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Modern AU, Red String of Fate, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28479615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxdaydream/pseuds/ladyxdaydream
Summary: It’s dark.But not the dark of night. There’s no sky. No wind. No rain. No earth beneath his feet.Nosound.What there is, is a presence by his side.“You’re okay!” Iruka smiles, hugging him.  “Where’s everyone else?“I don’t think there is an everyone else,” Kakashi says, his voice raspy, as though it hasn’t been used in years.“W-what do you mean?” Iruka asks.“I think…” Kakashi says carefully. “I think it’s just you and me.”
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 6
Kudos: 126
Collections: KakaIru Zine: Intertwined





	déjà vu

**Author's Note:**

> we've been given the okay to post our pieces from the kakairu zine!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it ~

A new child was being added to the shelter today. Dalma was standing in the door of the hut, introducing him as _Kakashi._ Iruka had heard stories about people as pale as the moon, who’d been sent by some god Iruka did not know. They brought foreign medicine and a thick leather-bound book—using prayer and strange drugs to try and flush the plague running rampant through Iruka’s village.

These people had tried to save Iruka’s parents too. The last thing he saw before being pushed out of his home was the white back of their coats, a red cross stamped into it.

Dalma said Kakashi’s father had contracted the very same plague he had come here to cure. It killed him, like so many others, leaving the boy alone in a country that was not his own.

In the weeks that followed, Iruka tried desperately to talk to the boy, but Kakashi hadn’t uttered a single word since he arrived. It frightened the other children—wondering if the devil had stolen his speech—but Iruka wasn’t scared. His mother had taught him silence was its own language, a universal one, and Iruka was quite comfortable talking enough for both of them.

Iruka fidgeted beneath the mosquito net, the balmy heat making the thin sheets stick to his skin. He’d been sharing his cot with Kakashi since there weren’t enough hammocks and beds for them all. He turned to face the other boy, examining him in the glow of candlelight. Iruka thought Kakashi’s skin was curious— _bone white_ —like a sun-bleached jaguar skull.

“Hey!” Iruka said, bounding up on all fours, looking like one of the spider monkeys that had stolen Kakashi’s dinner earlier. “If I tilt my head like this, our marks can kiss!” Iruka giggled, pressing his face against Kakashi’s.

Kakashi rubbed at his eye when Iruka pulled away, having been poked by his nose.

“Is that… is that a _smile?”_ Iruka teased, as the corners of Kakashi’s mouth twitched.

_“It is!”_ Iruka cried, letting out a loud whoop, almost toppling out of bed in triumph.

_“Ssstt,”_ Dalma hissed from where she was weaving a palm frond in the corner. “Go to sleep, child.”

Iruka plopped onto his side with a grunt, curling his knees into his chest. He cupped his hands around his mouth and whispered towards the other boy’s ear:

“Tomorrow I’m gonna make you laugh,” Iruka promised. “Sweet dreams, Kakashi.”

Kakashi pulled up the sheet to cover most of his face, hiding a real smile beneath it.

~

  
“Up, children!” Dalma yelled, moving quickly from bed to bed to shake them awake. “We must move!”

Iruka blinked himself awake to harsh winds whipping through the hut. Outside, the rain was so thick you could hardly see. It dropped in through the thatched roof, creating puddles of mud on the dirt floor.

“I thought _Jurakan_ was passing us by,” Iruka said, swinging his legs over the edge of the cot, his stomach dropping in fear— _Jurakan_ was one of the old gods who reigned over the sea.

“He must have changed course,” Dalma said. “Now, up! Both of you!”

Iruka grabbed Kakashi by the hand and pulled him along.

On their way to better shelter, a deafening crack sounded overhead, followed by the rapid swish of a tree falling. Iruka tried to push Kakashi out of the way, but Kakashi clutched onto him instead.

The last thing Iruka felt was the embrace of a hug before all went black.

* * *

It’s dark.

But not the dark of night. There’s no sky. No wind. No rain. No earth beneath his feet.

No _sound._

What there is, is a presence by his side.

“You’re okay!” Iruka smiles, hugging him. “Where’s everyone else?

“I don’t think there is an everyone else,” Kakashi says, his voice raspy, as though it hasn’t been used in years.

“W-what do you mean?” Iruka asks.

“I think…” Kakashi says carefully. “I think it’s just you and me.”

“…are we dead?”

“I don’t know,” Kakashi answers honestly.

Iruka frowns, before flashing Kakashi a wide smile.

“At least you talk here!” Iruka exclaims, looking around to try and comprehend where _here_ is, but he can’t see anything beyond Kakashi, the two of them encapsulated in a soft circle of light.

“Hey,” Iruka says, shuffling closer to Kakashi, feeling suddenly afraid. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise? Never? Like, never ever?”

“Never ever,” Kakashi confirms.

Iruka beams.

“I think we’re supposed to go there,” Kakashi says, pointing at a red paper lantern hanging from an arched pole. It stood at the end of a long path paved with white stones—it wasn’t there when they “arrived.”

“I don’t want to,” Iruka says, eyeing it warily.

“We have to,” Kakashi says, not sure how he knows this, but he _knows_ this.

“What if we get separated?” Iruka asks, biting into his bottom lip.

“Then we’ll find each other again.”

Kakashi holds out his hand and Iruka takes it, their bare feet touching down on cool stone as they start to walk.

“Hey,” Iruka whispers, furrowing his brow in concentration. “What’s your name?”

Kakashi swallows slowly, giving himself time to think, but the more he tries to focus on any one memory, the faster they disappear from his mind.

“I… I don’t remember,” he says, before adding, “what’s yours?”

“I can’t remember either,” Iruka says, starting to panic a bit. “How will we find each other if we don’t know our names?!” he cries.

Kakashi remains silent. He doesn’t have an answer.

“Wait,” Iruka says, tugging on Kakashi’s hand, pulling him to a stop.

“Look at me,” he commands.

Kakashi picks up his head to meet Iruka’s eyes.

“Our marks. Do you… do you think they’ll stay?”

“You want your mark to stay?” Kakashi asks, baffled. He’s always wanted his gone.

“If it helps me find you!”

The declaration makes Kakashi’s heart ache.

“Okay,” Kakashi says, resolute. “Our marks.”

They continue to walk hand in hand. Beyond the lantern, a tall torii looms. When they pass through it, an invisible red thread binds them together.

* * *

_“Iruka,”_ his boss hissed, breaking him out of his stupor. “Go help that customer.”

Iruka sighed, adjusting his skinny black tie over his crisp dress shirt. Selling designer bags he couldn’t afford on the affluent side of town was a nightmare—but also his job. Most of their clients were entitled tourists, looking for something to bring home from their island excursion.

He approached the man in question, who was currently fixated on a small leather satchel. The color of his wild hair was a glistening silver, reminding Iruka of the way the moon reflected off the sea on a clear night. It was strangely alluring.

“Good afternoon, sir. If you’re looking for something sleek yet spacious, that’s a wonderful choice,” Iruka bullshitted through his teeth, plastering his customer service smile to his face.

“Maa,” the man said, turning around but not quite facing him yet. “I’d like something that could carry a book or two. Along with the essentials.”

The man wiggled his phone and wallet in his hand, before finally angling himself to meet Iruka’s eyes.

Iruka felt like the breath had been punched from his lungs. Even though the man was wearing a black fabric mask over most of his face, there was something devastatingly familiar about him. Iruka had an insane urge to kiss the scar that cut through his eye, as if they’d known each other all their lives.

“Uh—,”

“—I’m sorry,” Iruka blurted, embarrassed at being caught staring. “but… I just,” Iruka blushed, scratching at his cheek. “Do I—do I know you?”

The man let out a small surprised laugh, his eyes slowly raking across Iruka’s scar, searching for something written in his skin.

“…I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Iruka’s mouth curved into a genuine smile this time, though he had no idea why.

“What’s your name?”

* * *

“Can you check again?” Kakashi asked, eyeing the windows warily, the rain crashing down so heavy nothing was visible beyond the glass.

“Kakashi,” Iruka laughed affectionately. “I just looked at it ten minutes ago.”

It’d been a mere two weeks since they met—the leather satchel Kakashi had bought hung from the back of Iruka’s bedroom door now. At 31, Kakashi had never fallen in love so fast, and it was _strange._ Strange because it didn’t come with the butterflies and bundle of nerves that usually accompanied something new. It felt like an old love, a comfortable love, as if it had simply been reignited instead of born from scratch. When Iruka suggested he stay for a while, Kakashi didn’t hesitate to cancel his flight.

It didn’t make any sense.

From an outside perspective, it probably looked reckless. Neither of them could explain it to anyone who asked.

But when it came to each other, no words were needed. It was mutual. Understood. They conversed the most when they were silent, communicating with heated kisses and exploratory touches.

Kakashi turned to look at Iruka now, a silent plead in his eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Iruka sighed, refreshing the weather map on his phone.

“Look,” he said, tilting the screen towards Kakashi. “Still a tropical storm. It won’t turn into a hurricane unexpectedly. That’s not how it works. Plus with technology now, we’d be immediately notified if it did.”

Iruka flashed him a reassuring smile, but Kakashi still didn’t seem convinced.

He placed his phone on the nightstand, before crawling on top of Kakashi beneath the sheets, their bare skin brushing together. He peppered Kakashi’s face with kisses, trying to smooth away his worries. When that failed to lift his mood, Iruka shot up onto his hands and knees.

“Do you think our scars are the same length?” Iruka asked playfully, trying to distract him. He tilted his head to line them up, hovering an inch over Kakashi’s face.

Kakashi closed his eyes on instinct.

“Open your eyes,” Iruka laughed, pushing Kakashi’s hair back from his forehead. “I’m not going to poke you.”

Kakashi fluttered them back open, only for his heart to stop in his chest—something about seeing Iruka like that, combined with a loud clap of thunder outside, sparked a series of sporadic images to flood his mind—rain, and wind, and _drenched._

He pulled Iruka down into a tight hug—inciting a surprised _oof_ from the man above him—and waited for the darkness to come.

…It didn’t come.

“Kakashi,” Iruka mumbled from where he was pressed face-first into the pillow.

But when Kakashi didn’t answer, Iruka turned his head to free his mouth, resting his cheek against Kakashi’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Iruka said, placing a warm palm on top of Kakashi’s heart, feeling it beat wildly in his chest. “You alright?”

Kakashi blinked up at the ceiling, reorienting himself. He hugged Iruka a little tighter, his voice shaking as he softly proclaimed:

“Déjà vu.”

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year, friends <3


End file.
